


to home & good health!

by bigdrool



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animal Crossing Fusion, Claude von Riegan-centric, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25494655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigdrool/pseuds/bigdrool
Summary: Khalid learns that the best homes are the ones you build yourself.---A vaguely Animal Crossing-inspired AU where Khalid helps build a community on an island through encounters with each of the Golden Deer.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	to home & good health!

0.

In the bright summer sun, the island is more lush than anything Khalid has ever seen before; the green of the fields and woods made all the more vibrant against the calm rivers that cut through the land, the trees ripe with fruit, and the wildlife peaceful. Undeveloped and isolated, he's convinced that he's found paradise.

He's rounding a tree when a loud _thwack_ and the sight of a flock of birds fleeing in alarm catches his attention. It's one of the other villagers that he'd arrived here with, a girl around his age, and she seems quite focused on beating her hands against the trees around her.

He can't figure out why, and he spends a minute hoping that he hadn't just volunteered to move to an island filled with crazies.

Despite her inexplicable bouts of violence, Khalid still steps up toward her, taking in her red palms with a frown. "You know, I think there are easier ways to get lunch if you're hungry."

"Huh?" She gives him a quick look of confusion before her eyes light up with recognition and she smiles, seemingly not feeling the pain when she plants her hands on her hips to face him. "You're one the new neighbours, right? I'm Leonie, nice to meet ya. I wasn't trying to get the fruit down, obviously."

She grins, as if his suggestion was hilarious, and it's charming enough that Khalid feels bad for labelling her as a weirdo just seconds ago.

"I'm trying to catch beetles."

… Though maybe he hadn't been too far off the mark. They're supposed to be setting up their tents after all.

"Might I suggest waiting until you can buy a net?" he offers blithely. "It'll be easier on your hands if nothing else."

Not that Leonie seems the least bit moved by his logic, her grin unwavering. "It's better for training my reflexes if I use my hands," she explains, crossing her arms with a sigh. "But you could have a point about the net. I'm no match for their speed right now, so maybe I should start with something easier…"

Khalid doesn't get a chance to reply when a huge hand suddenly comes down with a smack between his shoulder blades so hard that he might've gone stumbling forward if not for _his_ stunning reflexes.

"There you guys are! Have you picked a spot already? I set up my tent right by the river. Guess I'm having fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner!"

He looks up to see the other new inhabitant laughing—Raphael, who had quickly introduced himself before marching into the wilds. He's another character as colourful as the cherries that grace their island.

"I picked a spot in the woods." Leonie's answer comes easily, and it looks like she's about to elaborate, but Khalid can't resist interjecting with a quick, "So you can fight beetles all day long?" which earns him an amused look, Leonie narrowing her eyes but not taking offense.

"So where are you setting up camp then, funny guy?" she asks instead.

Khalid tucks his hands behind his head and hums thoughtfully as his gaze turns upward toward the blue, blue sky. "Maybe I'll live by the beach. That seems pretty idyllic, doesn't it?"

Raphael sets a hand on his shoulder.

"We're going to eat a lot of fish."

1.

There's a girl that keeps popping up in the town square. It would be hard not to notice her, not just because the island population hasn't increased from the original six, but with her jewels and flashy clothing, she'd stand out even if the island were home to a hundred. Khalid first spots her chatting with Leonie as she helps Catherine and Shamir set up their new shop, and thinks nothing of it. Perhaps she's a visiting family member or friend.

(Khalid might've mosied over there to be nosy if he weren't busy helping Raphael chop wood for a necklace he's making his sister.)

But she visits again and again, and each time she does, Khalid notices a change. A little more glimmer to the hair tie Leonie uses, new gloves for Shamir, and shirts and shirts for Raphael as he tears through them all.

Khalid misses her each time, for one reason or another, until finally he's taking a nap one day and startles awake to feel something cool and plastic settle over his face.

"How does no one on an island this _sunny_ own a pair of sunglasses? You guys are killing me."

She's positioned by his head, sighing and undoubtedly judging him behind her own shades, but there's something oddly charming about it as he peers up at her in admittedly easier-to-digest brightness, adjusting the sunglasses to sit more comfortably on his face.

"Maybe we were all just waiting for a dashing hero like yourself to come along and set us straight," he offers.

Khalid isn't the best at reading people, but something in his gut tells him that the absolutely unimpressed look she sends him isn't entirely sincere, and that only gets him to grin a little wider.

"Should I assume there's another reason you're here?" he continues, pushing himself up onto his elbows and cocking his head in question. "Other than to help damsels such as myself?"

She falters, but only for a second. She's tough. (But Khalid's got plenty of practice after dealing with Leonie.)

"Actually, yes." Her expression turns sweet, but the way she continues towering over him makes him wonder if she wouldn't step right on him with her expensive-looking boot if he said the wrong thing. "I want to open up shop here, and from what I understand, you're the one that takes care of that kind of thing."

A beat passes.

"Am I?" Is she just trying to foist her work onto him? "And you think that because…?"

"You're the mayor, aren't you?" And she continues on, unphased by the _utterly lost_ look on Khalid's face. "I've heard about you from the others—not that there's a ton of people on this island, but that's what I'm here for. I'm Hilda, by the way."

"Khalid," he offers in return, dazed and wondering what she could've possibly heard to make him think he's the _mayor_. "And sure, I'll help you with your shop. Do I get a discount?"

2.

"Okay, I think we've spent long enough at this zoo. We must be heading home now if we want any chance at arriving in time for supper."

"You're more than welcome to leave, Lorenz. I've already told you that I have no intention of returning."

"And you'll notice that I laugh every time you do because you cannot possibly be serious."

"I _am_ serious, and if you choose not to believe it then that's your problem, not mine."

The scene of the quarrel is one of the newly laid paths on the island, in front of a relatively empty plot of land not too far from Hilda's home. Khalid is standing within easy view of the pair, obviously eavesdropping, but neither of them pay him any attention.

" _How_ can you be serious? Why would you choose to live here, in this barely developed exile, over the ancestral home of our family? Who are you going to turn to if you ever need help?"

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," the young woman answers calmly, before her pale, pink eyes flicker over to Khalid. "And if I need help, I'm sure there's plenty of people like Mr. Nosy over there who could lend a hand."

Khalid grins at her in response, not phased when her expression remains unimpressed, and certainly doesn't falter when her companion—purple and snobby—turns an incredulous look in his direction.

"And _who_ might _you_ be?"

"Just a happy, helpful resident of this place." He walks over as he answers, so that he's no longer creepily staring at them from a distance. "And there's no better way to help out than listening in to people's conversations so you can suss out what the problem is."

The joke doesn't land, but he soldiers on.

"So what's the problem?"

The young woman answers first, "There is no problem—"

"There _is_." Not that her companion lets her get far, his foot coming down on the sidewalk as he jerks his attention away from Khalid. "The problem is your fit of teenage rebellion, which has led you to believe that it might be acceptable and permissible for you to move away from your family and take up residence in this unknown place all by yourself!"

There's a moment of silence after the last word rings out, as Khalid watches him take a deep, composing breath, relaxing his hands where they'd formed fists at his side, and standing up straight again so that he's no longer leaning his imposing height forward.

He shouldn't bother straightening up, Khalid thinks to himself, as he watches the face of the source of his outburst grow increasingly stormier. She reminds him of one of the scorpions that emerge in the summer: small, fast, and deadly.

"Apparently I was mistaken. There is a problem here, and it's _you_ , Lorenz. Do not treat me like a child just because you want to control me. That's exactly why I can't live in Gloucester anymore—I'm tired of being forced to fall in line with every aspect of my life. The way I dress, the way I eat, my occupation, my _home_. I'm moving here, and the life I build will be _mine_ , even if it's hard, even if it's painful."

Her jaw clenches as she draws herself up to her full height, words no less heated for how even they are.

"Don't try to stop me from leaving just because I'm creating the change you never had the courage to."

Silence, again. There's little that the man—Lorenz—can do in the face of such certainty other than sputter silently as he attempts to come up with a plausible denial, and Khalid, who would rather not wait five minutes for an opportunity step out of this family feud, deftly sweeps in before Lorenz can respond.

"You know, if you're interested in establishing yourself and making a unique mark on the landscape of this island, you might want to talk to my friend Hilda." Ignoring the absolutely aghast expression that Lorenz is wearing, Khalid tucks his arms behind his head and nods in the direction of Hilda's place. "She's trying to figure out how to bring her design for her house to life too. What's your name, by the way?"

He has no idea if his advice will be welcome, or if she'll find him just as intrusive as Lorenz, but he can't see the harm in trying. And maybe if Snobby can see that she's in perfectly good company, this entire endeavour might go over more smoothly between them.

So he can't help but be pleased, just a little, when she turns towards toward, not friendly but not cold, and smooths down her skirt.

"Lysithea," she answers primly, remarkably unbothered by having a stranger march into what likely should've been a private moment. "And I would like that very much."

3.

Hilda is complaining. Loudly. And while that isn't the most unusual of occurrences, it's not doing any favours for Khalid's attempts to catch scorpions and beat Leonie. Her beetle exhibit at the museum is getting out of control, and he's determined to claim some space for a far superior poisonous insect display.

Not that it'll ever happen so long as Hilda's voice is ringing throughout the entire woods.

"... And you know I'm not going to complain about how _popular_ my store is, but being busy isn't an excuse for doing such a bad job! Ugh! Half the time I end up taking over and doing everything myself, and that is _not_ why I hired an employee, you know? I'm supposed to be able to take it easy while _she_ does all the work."

He isn't sure that's how running a business is supposed to work, but there's no arguing with Hilda when she's trying to wiggle out of doing something. She must be worked up if she's wandered out into the woods to stand around and vent at him rather than heading straight home to soak in her lavish bath, which Khalid has noticed and admired on more than one occasion. (Hilda had, once while they were considering landscaping parts of the island, told him that the only "woods" she was interested in journeying through were the ones she'd grow in the backyard of the mansion she'll eventually own.)

Despite his best efforts, there's no chance that he's going to be catching anything until her irritation has been placated, so he momentarily surrenders the chase so that he can plant his net straight into the ground, leaning on it as he faces her.

"Why don't you just fire her?" It's a pointless question, because he knows she would have already considered this and ruled it out for whatever reason. Probably because she thinks—

"I could never be so cruel!" The indignation and disbelief is just an act, but she's remarkably convincing when she puffs out her cheeks and stomps her foot. (Further scaring away anything that Khalid had hoped to catch.) "She came all the way over here to work her at my shop, and I can't just kick her out to the street. She just..." She trails off with a sigh, looking away as if torn, and Khalid can feel that the following pause is finally leading up to what she'd hunted him down for in the first place.

He braces himself for the puppy dog eyes that he can practically sense are coming his way.

"She just... needs someone who can show her how it's done."

Needless to say, Khalid finds himself working in Hilda's shop the next day.

Once he's there, he can see why Hilda might have trouble firing someone like Marianne—even if she didn't have a reputation to maintain as someone cute and harmless. Marianne is sweet and soft-spoken, and utterly hopeless as she wanders through the shop. She knocks over the entire sunglass display while trying to return one pair to its place, accidentally slaps a customer with a handbag while taking it down from a shelf, and somehow manages to rumple a full selection of shirts while trying to fold just one.

As much as he hates to say it, Khalid has a sneaking suspicion that Marianne is beyond the "show her how it's done" type of help.

Not that he doesn't try or that he doesn't want to, but he spends so much of the day cleaning up after her that by the time he's done, their shift is over and he's forgotten why he'd been planted in the shop in the first place.

Unless he wants to spend the rest of his days as one of Hilda's employees, he's going to need to find a solution.

So he wheedles Marianne into picking up some ice cream from Lysithea's instead of heading straight home, coercing her into a walk in the park so that they can get to know each other.

(Unlike Hilda, Lysithea doesn't actually run a shop, but her house might as well be a factory for all the science experiment ice creams that she creates. Khalid's not sure how she managed to get a house so large and well-stocked considering her relatively short tenure, but he's so well-placated by her unique offerings that he leaves the issue alone.)

"What's your favourite part of working at Hilda's shop?" He may as well weasel his way toward his ulterior motive. They're sitting on one of the park benches, the silence that comes with a change in conversation topic stretching between them.

"Oh, um…" He watches patiently as she gathers up a response, demeanour shifting this way and that as she tries to parse the most appropriate thing to say. "Hilda's very creative, and being to see and work with all of her pieces is very… lucky of me."

She loses confidence as she speaks, and Khalid has to wonder if it's because she's worried about sounding insincere, though he doesn't know how she could be anything but the opposite.

Through Hilda, he'd learned the merits of physical affection; the way she would bump their shoulders together, or lean against his arm. Even how freely she would smack him felt like a testament to their closeness, and it had become a source of comfort for him.

But he doesn't do any of that with Marianne, he just smiles and takes another bite of his ice cream. (Terrifying cold, and sour, but preferable to the sickly sweet flavours that Lysithea sometimes pumped out.)

"Hilda definitely is something, and she'd be overjoyed to know you think so highly of her work." Which is true, for all the confidence that Hilda displays, he knows that she does value their opinion deeply. "But I don't think she'd want to keep you there if it wasn't something that _you're_ passionate about. Have you thought about anything else you might want to do? How about the museum?"

It's quiet and slow-paced, and he can imagine Marianne existing quite peacefully there.

But when she flushes next to him, he gets a feeling that she's about to shatter that image.

"I worked at a library in the town I was in before this one," she offers quietly, hands still around the pint in her lap. "I had to leave after I pushed over one of the bestseller displays."

He can also imagine Marianne accidentally sending all of Leonie's prized beetles into a crowd of unsuspecting visitors.

"... Okay, maybe not then." He knows when to take a loss. "How about helping Lysithea open up an ice cream parlour so she actually makes money off her experiments?"

It's still a fast-paced customer service job, but Lysithea is probably enough of a drill sergeant to maintain order—

"Oh, she's not interested in opening a shop at all. She said that a business would interfere with her intellectual pursuits."

—But she lacks any entrepreneurial spirit. Onto the next one then.

"Maybe Ignatz? He said he wanted to start some kind of cultural centre, didn't he?"

"Oh, yes." And Marianne, bless her, finally smiles. "He said he wanted to open a studio for people to do classes and pursue their own artistic projects. He did ask if I wanted to help, but I'm not very knowledgeable about art and I wouldn't want to take away from anyone who's passionate about it."

Which is a remarkably sweet sentiment, and in line with everything that Khalid has learned about Marianne in the single day that he's known her. He wants to launch into a lecture about how he's sure that Ignatz would want his studio to be a place where anyone feels welcome, regardless of skill level or experience, but something else catches his attention.

"You're quite good at picking up on what other people are trying to do in this town," he notes, casually.

Marianne looks up from where she's been smiling faintly at her lap, expression transforming into something mildly distressed as she takes in the way that Khalid is looking at her with a hand to his chin, an idea glinting in his eyes.

"I… Well, maybe a little," her answer comes as almost a whisper, unsure if she's going to like what he has in store for her.

But Khalid isn't the least bit deterred, a grin stretching across his features.

"How do you feel about town hall?"

4.

Khalid whistles as he steps into the studio, the space neat, organized and bright as the sun shines in from the windows. There are a few boxes crammed into the corners, and a tarp spread out over the back of the room, but as far as he can tell, it's completely ready to go.

"The place looks great." He looks over at Ignatz, who's standing beside him looking equally nervous and pleased. "Should I start spreading the word that it's ready for people to start barging in?"

"If you'd like," Ignatz replies, polite as he wanders further in, his eyes roving over the space with the same critical stare as Khalid.

He's still looking for areas of improvement, and the sight of him brings a smile to Khalid's lips, small and genuine.

"Well, you should've seen the smile on Marianne's face when she was talking about it this morning. If she greets everyone who walks into town hall like that, then you're going to have no trouble getting the word out."

Not that Ignatz necessarily _needed_ a lot of traffic. His studio isn't set up as a business, but rather a community space for people to make use of, and contribute to the resources available as they please. It's a frankly fantastic initiative, and Khalid knows he appreciates the spot for a nice date that isn't a visit to the museum. (Even if he is quite proud of his contributions.)

Still, places like this thrive most when there's people to gather and collaborate with, hence being a _communal_ space.

He rolls up his sleeves and heads over to where the canvases are lined up, grabbing one as well as a folded easel.

"You're still going to try and do classes, right? Why don't you give me a run through?"

The request startles Ignatz out from his analysis of some supplies, looking over at Khalid like a deer caught in headlights. "Wh-what? Now? I haven't…"

"Haven't what?" Khalid shoots back, leaning his weight on one hip and arching a brow in his direction. "Imagined how you'd go through a lesson a million times in your head already? C'mon, I know you better than that."

"Still…" The perturbed expression doesn't fade, despite Khalid's vote of confidence, but eventually he sighs, and relents. "I guess it would be a good experience to guide someone with no history in art."

Khalid really doesn't have any experience in art, or talent in it. In fact, he would describe his skill level as "atrocious", and if Ignatz can stumble through working with a student as awful as himself, he can consider himself ready to tackle any challenge.

Not that he says any of this.

Instead, what he says is, "That's right. And if this goes horribly, you can just blame it on me."

5.

Against all odds, Hilda had roped Lorenz of all people into helping out at her store, and while he had sputtered out a great protest about how he was no common _shop worker_ , he's taking to the task with great care. Something that Khalid doesn't hesitate to point out when he drops by with a dessert iced tea from Lysithea's for him. (He'd been the one to suggest Hilda pick on Lorenz in the first place.)

"Of course," Lorenz replies, motioning to Khalid to leave the drink on the counter because he cannot be idly sipping while on the floor. "It would be a slight against my name if I were to perform at a level below my stature. Just because the work is not suitable for me, does not mean that I don't excel in it."

Khalid leans his hip against the counter, watching Lorenz fold clothing with admittedly impeccable precision, and smiles. "That's a lot of words to say that you just don't want to let HIlda down by leaving her store in disarray."

This time, after having spent so long on the island and among its people, Lorenz doesn't puff up in denial, offering some ridiculously verbose response where the tone implies that Khalid is wrong while his words do the opposite. Instead, he simply looks over with a sidelong glance, and doubles down.

"I should hope that much would be obvious."

The lack of denial startles a laugh out of Khalid, bright and delighted, "My apologies." He pushes off from where he'd settled to stand by Lorenz and give him a friendly smack on the shoulder. "You know, Lorenz, if you like it here so much, you should just get a house. If nothing else, it's a great place for a vacation home."

Lorenz only hums in response, surprisingly unphased by the idea. "And what would you know about that?"

"About vacation homes?" Khalid's hands settle on his hips, as he gives Lorenz a look. "I do have my own here, and how much is there to know, really?"

"What?" Lorenz stops what he's doing, incredulous. "No, I meant about— wait, what do you mean you have a vacation home here?"

It's Khalid's turn to look incredulous, brows furrowed and expression uncertain like he's not entirely sure that Lorenz hadn't hit his head while running about the shop and knocked out some key information in the process.

"Yeah? Lorenz, you've _been_ to my house."

There's a beat of silence where Lorenz simply stares at him, though whether it's because he's struggling to digest the information or because he can't imagine that Khalid could be so clueless is unclear.

Finally, he replies, "I have. What I'm failing to understand is why you're implying that this is some sort of island getaway for you, when this is obviously your home. No caveats."

Khalid stares back at him, surprised that Lorenz had even noticed the distinction.

He'd had no expectations when he first landed here, chasing after something new and different to explore; the island was fresh and wild, its possibilities endless. It would be another project for him, another in a list of curious things for him to examine and take his fill of until he wandered somewhere else. It was impossible that he wouldn't hunger for a new journey, a new adventure soon enough.

But without his consent, his heart clings to the furniture in his home, made together with Leonie, and the decorations that Hilda had foisted on him. To the reminder that Raphael is the only one he'd ever met he could match his enthusiasm for feasts, and how exciting it is to see where Ignatz, Marianne and Lysithea will grow. (How much he's looking forward to being smug when Lorenz eventually makes his home here, because he absolutely will.)

Something tightens in his chest, and he thinks— he wants to be there for it. He wants to see where they'll take him too.

And suddenly, he feels more seen than he'd planned to be, and since a hasty retreat would be far too telling, he simply looks away from Lorenz' exasperated stare, toward one of Hilda's expertly organized walls, wishing he could peer outside to where the sun and the sea paint the landscape.

"Maybe," he admits, "you're onto something."

**Author's Note:**

> i've never actually played animal crossing, and i'm sure it shows, but the thought of claude finally finding a place for himself as he helps others do the same is something i couldn't resist!
> 
> also for the record, i am picturing alois as tom nook, and catherine and shamir as timmy and tommy. C:


End file.
